Still Waters
by gaffer42
Summary: What happens after the crisis? How do you deal with having friends again after seven years on your own? The consequences of some pretty serious Sheppard and McKay whumping from the POV of our favourite Satedan. Just noted Complete in 9 parts.
1. Chapter 1

_Still Waters_

_by Gaffer_

_Rating – T for Teen_

_Team fic, emphasis on the boys._

Chapter 1

I became a man the day I began running.

Now, that sounds way too deep and philosophical. The bare, bizarre fact, is that according to my estimate, the day I was released by the Wraith with a tracker in my back happened, of all days, to be my birthday. Satedan society dictated that the newly-aged man do something of note on that date.

Satedan society was pretty much gone at that point, but I guess the most noteworthy thing I did was not get killed.

I managed to keep not getting killed for the next seven years. In that time I saw more things I wish I hadn't, and did more things I didn't want to, than I thought was possible. And then the Earthers showed up.

Life got better after that. But still, things happened with and around us. And, unfortunately, to us.

Our jumper pulled in low over the trees. The second one bore to the right and headed for the regular landing area nearer the Athosian village.

I was in the back, on a bench seat. That was ok, lots of leg room. I watched Sheppard, seated behind the co-pilot position; he was moving his bandaged hands slightly, sort of mimicking what Lorne was doing. I bet he didn't even realize it. He was the best pilot on Atlantis, and he wasn't used to being in the back seat, but Carson had forbidden him to fly. In fact, the doctor had taken the co-pilot's seat himself, 'so the Colonel could avoid temptation' he'd said.

Sheppard had restrained himself from commenting a couple of times during the flight, but as we approached the clearing, I saw him shift forward like he was going to say something. McKay leaned over, tapping Sheppard's shoulder with his own white-wrapped hands.

"Let the man drive," the physicist said. "Or do you want to be known as a back seat flyer?"

"I want to fly, period," Sheppard grumbled, settling back.

"You can't, 'til you lose the bandages," McKay reminded. "That's what this little holiday is for." He sat back, too. "No laptop," he mourned. "No gadgets. Nothing to keep the mind engaged."

"No missions," Sheppard chimed in. "No drills. No weapons training."

"We will find something for you to do," Teyla said patiently. It was a variation on a discussion we'd had several times before. "It will be a good break, with good company."

Did they ever do anything but grouse? There were all kinds of reasons to take some time off; they knew that more than anyone. There was a really big one as far as I was concerned, and I figured I'd better remind them.

"And of course, you're not dead," I have a low voice. It tends to attract attention, so I've learned to use it to my advantage. I looked across at Teyla, grinning a bit. "That's always better than the alternative."

I saw McKay's face; the man leaned around the wall so he could peer at me. "The Wookie makes an excellent point," he grinned.

I finally got the reference. Doctor Weir had decided the Chewie jokes needed explaining, and we had a movie night. Star Wars. Dumb name. Fun movie. And there was a new kind of snack, so it all worked out fine. My own opinion is that Chewbacca was the smartest of the lot. So, it didn't offend me. I'd had worse nicknames. I heard Beckett snickering as we began to land.

The trees slid up in front of the screen. We landed with a slight jar, and Lorne shut the systems down. A couple of moments later, I got a nod and lowered the door. Halling and Jinto, and another lad about Jinto's age waited outside for us.

"Welcome." Halling could almost look me in the eye, but he wasn't built like me - he was almost gaunt. He had haunted eyes.

That, I could understand.

Lorne went first, and Beckett followed him out, pausing at the back door to keep an eye on his two patients. McKay stood, crooked an arm to Sheppard in a matter of fact manner. And Sheppard used the extra leverage with equal matter of factness, sliding his forearm through McKay's elbow, before bracing his other wrist on the chair's arm so he could use his legs and shoulders to stand, minimizing the tension on his healing incisions with no pressure on his or McKay's mending hands.

Once he was up, McKay dropped his arm and glanced over at me, passing on the charge. I nodded, watching as McKay made his way out, Sheppard following gamely. I brought up the rear.

"Leave your bags," Halling directed. "Jinto and Andran will bring them."

"Thanks, guys." Sheppard grinned.

OoO

Our accommodation was in a glade, near a river. Outside, a fire pit stood ready, a healthy pile of wood stacked under a tarp, and a rough-sawn lumber table with log stools was nearby. A small tent hid the necessary other facilities.

But the glade was pretty much taken up by a large structure that would be our home for, Beckett estimated, up to three weeks.

I went into the main part of the tent, following Sheppard, ducking under the colourful over-hanging drapery that was obviously designed to serve as a door at night, but was pulled aside to let the warm afternoon breeze in. It wasn't just one tent, but four; a very large one set up with a table and chairs, overstuffed hassocks, a small wood burning stove that looked like we could cook on it if we wanted, couches around the outside and several piles of comfortable cushions on the thick woven rug that served as a floor. And there were three smaller ones attached that were obviously designed for one person to sleep in, opening into the main tent, each with their own heavy drape providing privacy for whoever was inside. McKay wandered around, checking the three rooms, and I made certain Sheppard was seated comfortably before making my own reconnaissance.

I scouted them all thoroughly, inside and out. The edges were held down by pegs inside and by rocks outside. The beds were placed towards the outer edges, so I took the time to move them more towards the center of each, out of easy reach should someone slash the fabric to attack the person inside. The whole set up made my skin crawl, but I forced down that initial reaction, realizing 'Fine, we'll sleep in the jumper, it's defensible,' would likely be misinterpreted by our hosts.

And after all, it was a holiday; a recovery period, and - though I wouldn't admit it if asked - I knew I needed it almost as much as the others.

That had been hard to accept. In a way, I still wanted to get out there, check out other planets, go, go and keep going… And though I realized intellectually I didn't have to, there was part of me that kept one ear open, all the time, for the step of a Wraith who tracked me. That was half of why I knew this time off would benefit us all. The other half…well…

I'd made a hasty departure from the infirmary, shortly after Sheppard and McKay had recovered enough to wake; it had been unexpected by them and pretty much instinct on my part. I'd simply…left. Between one word and the next, I'd felt my chest tighten, my breath soured in my throat, and I'd turned and gone. I knew now that it was partly a physical reaction; I hadn't been taking the best care of myself in the time we'd been searching for the two, but still something had me running. I wasn't escaping the Wraith this time, but something more insidious.

Chapter 2

I'd run, keeping to the less-used hallways, hardly making a sound; run like the Wraith were after me still. Finally, though, I'd gained a measure of control, ducking behind a pillar and stopping, leaning my forehead against the cool surface. I'd closed my eyes, rubbing them, but the images wouldn't fade, the fear increased with darkness and I couldn't think of how I'd face the night. I couldn't forget. All the other things I'd seen, other atrocities, other horrors, this was the image I knew would haunt me.

Light footsteps had approached. Stopped.

"Ronon?" It had been Teyla, and something had eased inside. Someone had come after me. I hadn't even realized, 'til that very moment, that I'd been afraid that no one would. I'd drawn a deep breath. I'd faced down Wraith, seen things that would unman a lesser person. I could handle this, surely. I'd stepped out from my hiding place.

Her face had cleared when she saw me. "You are ill?" she'd asked, though, and the concern was evident.

"Better," I'd replied. It wasn't really a lie. Much.

She'd raised an earbud. "I borrowed it from Doctor Beckett," she'd said, clipping it around her ear and tapping it.

"Doctor Beckett? I have found Ronon. Please assure Doctor McKay and Colonel Sheppard he is well. We will return shortly."

She'd turned it off, and tucked it in a vest pocket. Raising her eyebrows, she'd inclined her head back toward the city. I'd nodded, and we had started back.

"Sorry."

We'd been walking in silence for a few minutes.

"It is all right," she replied.

I'd stopped. "No, it isn't."

She'd stopped, too, and looked up at me.

I'd gazed down at her. They've endured so much, I wanted to say, and I was standing there and I suddenly saw them as we'd found them. I'd thought they were dead, and I remember how much it hurt, that thought. I wanted to say it, but I knew I wouldn't.

I took refuge in a simple statement of fact. "I couldn't breathe."

"What made you so afraid?" Her voice was even, understanding, and it struck me that she'd seen right to the core of it. Fear. It had been fear, but it was a different quality of fear than I'd felt running from the Wraith.

I'd realized we - I - had something to really fear again.

"Us. Our team," I'd said finally.

"And losing it. Almost losing them."

Her words had been so simple, so honest, and I'd opened my mouth to say something, closed it again, unable to find the words I needed. I'd stared helplessly at her, realizing that - for the first time in seven years - I actually did not know my own mind.

Running had taken all my energy, effort, and intellect. Running had taken everything I had. Now I had a chance to live, again, to enjoy the pleasure of a team, friendship. I had even begun to relearn that ages old dance between men and women - though that was going to take some more work.

It had been such a simple thing that Beckett had done, and it had such a profound effect on my life.

So why did I suddenly wish I was still running?

Again, unbidden, I'd seen the images in my mind, of my teammates - my friends - in the cell. I'd felt the tightness in my chest again, and the edges of the fear…Teyla had taken my arm.

"Come with me," she'd said. "Doctor Beckett wishes to examine you."

"I don't need it." I'd resisted.

"It will help ease our minds," she'd said quietly, and I'd looked at her, wondering at the fact she knew me well enough to know that was the one thing that would make me comply.

OoO

And here we were now, on the mainland, among friends.

I dodged Jinto as the boy trotted in with a bag.

"Where is the Colonel sleeping?" he asked, grinning up at me, unafraid - or maybe unimpressed.

Sitting on my 'In the jumper' response again, I gestured. "Here. I moved the bed. The - air circulation will be better."

Jinto shrugged, set the bag at the foot of the bed. "These baskets are for clean clothing, these are for soiled. Wash day is every fourth day, that's two days from now. Just put the baskets of soiled clothing out near the fire pit at night; they'll be collected and returned the next afternoon. I told Doctor McKay this already, but I'm never certain if he's listening."

He seemed to be waiting for something.

"His mind's always busy," I replied. Manners I thought long dead prodded me. "It's - generous of your people to do this."

"We owe them. I owe them. My dad was taken in a culling, see, and the Colonel - he was a Major then - he went and got him back." He looked up again and I met his eyes, and suddenly Jinto seemed older than his years, gazing at me earnestly. "And Doctor McKay saved us all from the shadow monster, and we have this great place to stay; the land is good and we've got protection and access to the 'gate…"

I nodded.

Jinto nodded back, and turned to head out. "Um. Ronon." He stopped and looked back. "How come you're staying? On the team, and all, I mean."

I considered a hundred different responses in the matter of a moment, but it had been a simple question, after all. A simple answer would serve, and it was the barest truth.

"I like them."

The boy grinned. "Even Doctor McKay?"

I nodded once, and Jinto laughed. "Me too. Though sometimes he's like a grumpy old ursus."

"Wouldn't mention that to him."

"Naah." He snickered again, and left.


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note – I'd like to thank Nebbyjen and Kodiak Bear for beta'ing and encouragement. Dang tenses. _

_And thanks for all the wonderful feedback! Hope this story continues to be interesting to read. It certainly was to write!_

Chapter 3 

I took a moment to empty Sheppard's bag into one of the clean clothesbaskets. I'd done something similar for my taskmaster, for other superior officers, and I found myself falling into those habits more and more. I paused for a second, wondering at that fact that when I was most comfortable, I was replicating my time in the service of my planet.

Sateda.

I wasn't the only one alive.

But I found myself somewhat - reluctant - to go and find the other couple of hundred that had apparently survived. What would I have in common with them, anyway, anymore? I didn't suppose anyone else had been fitted with a tracker and set to run, and I knew, absolutely, I had no family left. I had seen them taken or killed.

I sat on the edge of the bed a moment, folding the backpack neatly, absently.

That simple observation, if I had made it in public on Atlantis, would have made the Earthers uncomfortable. The women would have given me sympathetic looks, the men would have shown gruff solidarity by vowing revenge on the 'whole damn Wraith race', and I'd be no closer to dealing with it than I'd ever been before.

They'd taken me out of that cocoon and told me I had a chance to live a bit longer - though there was a catch. Then they told me what they wanted me to do.

Of course I said yes.

The one who'd put the implant in had told me the last two hadn't lasted a month, and that he didn't expect I would either. Then I was off, and I didn't have time to mourn. Now that I did have the time, I found I didn't have the emotion. So much had happened between then and now.

I shoved the pack under the bed, thinking that I should go for a run; maybe it would break me out of the mood I was in. I'd taken to running with Sheppard; I'd always liked exercising with company. In the service, most didn't like the daily troop run, but I never minded it. The steady beat of another pair, or seven, of feet made it easy for me. And that made me stop as another thought crossed my mind.

What would I do if I ran into some of my old acquaintances? Maybe someone I'd served with - other than that kraken taskmaster who still haunted my dreams - someone I'd liked?

Would there be any common ground? Or was my life now here, with the assortment of people of different colours, and accents, and professions that occupied Atlantis?

"Damn it," I whispered. Now I had way too much time to think. On Atlantis I would have simply gone and found someone to spar with, or done some training with the Earth weapons. Here, it was grass and trees and everyone was friendly, and there wasn't much else to do but think. This was what Beckett had hoped for when he included me on the mandated holiday. Sneaky bastard.

I heard a familiar step outside the drape and pushed the backpack farther under the bed, standing as Sheppard made his way into the tent.

"And does it meet with your approval?" the Colonel asked dryly.

"No," I said bluntly. "Not defensible. No protection."

Sheppard raised his eyebrow as he walked carefully towards the chair. "Protects us from the rain, Ronon. Sun. Bugs. That's all we need, here."

"I'm taking your word for it," I said, standing and steering Sheppard toward the bed instead. "Here. I unpacked the bag already. Sack out for a bit."

It was a measure of the man's condition that he only made a token protest as I eased him down, pulling the half-laced boots off and a colourful blanket up and over him. "Don't get used to this, Sheppard," I growled as I did it. "It's not what I'm best at."

"Agreed," the pilot replied, smirked a bit as he said it. "I'll be out in a few minutes. Don't let Rodney eat all the pastries."

"Pastries?" I grinned down at my commander. "Later."

"Hey!"

**Chapter 4**

I sat straight up; eyes open in the dark. Something had woken me - a cry? It wasn't repeated, but I trusted my senses, and if my sub-conscious told me I should be awake, I listened to it.

I stood. I'd committed the place to memory during the day, and I found my shirt and vest where I'd left them. Pulling them on, I listened hard, but the noise wasn't repeated. Around the tents the night noises of the planet continued unconcernedly, and I took my cue from them that all was well outside. That left inside.

I pushed the drape aside and moved to the table. It was almost pitch dark, only small shafts of moonlight lit the interior, but it was enough for me to find a lantern and light it. I moved quietly to Sheppard's doorway. The heavy cloth didn't hinder my hearing, and I could tell the Colonel slept peacefully, snoring slightly.

That left only McKay. Who wasn't sleeping.

I stood outside that doorway for a few seconds, listening to the quiet breaths - too quiet, as if he were trying to hide - and suddenly realized the room inside had to be pitch black, far too similar to another chamber he'd been trapped in. Swearing at myself for being dense, I pulled the drape aside slightly and moved the lantern to where the man inside could see it.

"Hey. McKay. I'm putting some stew on, I'm hungry. Want some?"

I waited, not opening the hanging any further, hearing the breathing steady, become more normal.

"Yeah," McKay replied quietly. "Yeah. I'll be right out."

I let the drape fall back, but pulled the extra fabric at the bottom a bit so it stayed open a few inches. Hearing McKay climb out of bed, I went to the stove.

It had been lit after supper against the cool evening breeze, but it was as much to have the comfort of having a fire as the need to keep warm. The blaze had died, but the embers had been banked with ash and glowed still. It took me only a few moments to bring the fire back to life. I put the grill over it, moving the pot with the remains of the vegetable stew back onto the heat, and pulled out a heel of bread that had been overlooked earlier.

McKay pulled the drape aside and wandered out, yawning.

"I guess I woke you up. Bad dream," the physicist said, and lifted two bowls from the box next to the jugs that held our drinking water, passing them to me. He went back to the box, managing to remove two spoons and two mugs, setting them on the table. I watched from the corner of my eye, but he seemed to be doing okay.

"Had to feed the fire," I replied. "Gets too damn dark in here. Can't see the stars."

I was satisfied to see the man nod. "Guess tents weren't something you worried much about when you were running." It was said with a careful tone of voice, an invitation to talk if it was wanted, a simple observation if it wasn't, and I found myself grateful for the ambiguity. It wasn't usually McKay's way; I had figured he didn't know what tact was, but that question made it clear he did. It was just that, like me, he considered it something you only brought out for special occasions.

Still, I wasn't inclined to talk too much about that time. Yet? Maybe ever.

I filled the bowls and placed one in front of McKay, who had manipulated the jug to top up our mugs with water from a stream that had been vetted by Beckett and guaranteed pure.

I sat and raised my mug in salute, McKay returning the toast, two handed, after a second. The second dinner was as good as the first.

The first edge of hunger sated, McKay braced the bread between the heels of his hands and tore a thick wedge off with his teeth. "You're the first person I've met who can keep up with me with food. Sheppard wouldn't understand the midnight munchies," he informed me, dunking the bread before taking a bite.

"Food wasn't a luxury for me," I replied. "Never had enough. Being here, I have too much choice." I sucked a bit of grain from my teeth. "Getting fat," I added, thoughtfully.

"Oh, yeah, right."

"Beckett said."

McKay tilted his head. "Did he?" He snickered. "Wish I'd seen that conversation."


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you, everyone, for your wonderful feedback. I'll have the next one up as soon as I'm happy with it – meantime, for your enjoyment…_

Chapter 5

I sat on the side of the bed, grateful that Beckett had not inflicted one of those 'gowns' on me, instead handing me a set of scrubs that actually almost fit. There had been several blood tests, and scans, and assorted pokes and prods. For a while, though, I'd been left alone behind a privacy screen, and Beckett had given me a warm blanket and encouraged me to sleep for a bit, while the blood tests were done.

I'd known it wasn't necessary that I remain in the infirmary, it was Beckett being protective; but I'd found it relaxing to be there, knowing Sheppard and McKay were in the next room, and Teyla was waiting for me with them.

I'd heard voices. I was almost certain no one knew exactly how good my hearing was, and I wasn't going to volunteer the information, so I'd just sat there and listened. It was Beckett, and he was talking with Weir.

That was a surprise. I hadn't known what the head of Atlantis really thought of me, but as I began to follow the thread of the conversation, I discovered that she was genuinely concerned for me.

"…still anaemic, believe it or not. He has to stop eating just the sweet stuff and go for the green leafy stuff." Beckett had finished a sentence begun out of the range of even my hearing.

"Anaemic?" Weir had said, in disbelief.

"And exhausted. That, we know why. The anaemia is due to his diet change. When he was on the run he hunted, ate mostly meat and fruit. Rodney's introduced him to other, less nutritious stuff. I'll just have a word with him about that."

"Ronon?" There was a smile in her voice, I'd heard it.

"Rodney. He could stand to eat better, too, though his weight isn't an issue any more." The affection had been evident. "He'll be more likely to do it if he thinks he's helping a friend."

It hadn't been that much of a surprise that McKay thought of me as a friend. What had surprised me was Beckett's insight, and how - comforting - it was.

"What caused that...anxiety attack?" Weir had sounded worried, then. "It seems so – out of character."

"It was a combination of things, Elizabeth. He hadn't slept for three or four days before they went out on the rescue, he'd not been eating well - hardly at all, really. It takes a lot of nourishment to keep that body going." I heard them move over to the desk. "And it had to be partly the emotional impact of finding our lads the way they did. He's covering up better than most would, but, as you well know, he is by no means a dim bulb. Still waters run deep, my mum always said, and he's sharp, smarter than he likes to let on. He plays the big, dumb lug very well, is all."

What was the term someone used when they were caught? It was one of the more colourful terms…oh, yes. Busted.

"I haven't had their reports yet, and I only got the short version from Lorne. It sounds like there's more to it. How they found them?"

Beckett had sighed. "I asked Teyla that very same question. She said it was dark in there, that it smelled of evil – of people taking delight in other people's pain. It wasn't just what she said, though, it was her eyes. She looked like a – a rabbit in the headlights. I didn't press her on it."

Weir had made a small sound of distress; I remember thinking that she probably didn't even realize it. Surprisingly, I'd found myself almost wanting to comfort her.

"Aye. For it to frighten her…I didn't even ask Ronon. I didn't think he'd tell me. He seems to have only a certain number of words per day for conversation." He'd tried to bring a bit of levity to the dark topic. "But I'd guess that our Ronon has seen worse in his time out there."

'Our' Ronon. I'd almost smiled at that. And in my mind I saw Weir cock her head questioningly, as she did when she didn't want to interrupt someone's thought but wanted to hear more.

"He's been on the run seven years, lass. And yet he's not talked about it at all. Think about it - seven years, unable to remain in one place, knowing anyone you grew close to would likely die a horrid death. Now he's free. He can't just forget all those years, and he's discovered that, still, anyone you grow close to can die a horrid death. The man is very strong, we know that. But he is still a man, and he still has a breaking point."

"He hasn't reached that yet."

I remembered hoping her confident statement was right, though my breaking and running like a raw recruit had me wondering about myself.

"Not yet, no. But he's on the edge. He needs to reconcile his old life with his new, and he hasn't had the chance to, yet. He joined us and he's been out on mission after mission, it must seem almost as if nothing's changed."

Everything has changed, I'd wanted to say, but I'd held my tongue, curiosity overwhelming impulse.

There had been a quiet moment.

"How can we help him, Carson?" She'd sounded determined, and I'd realized, with a start, that somehow I'd truly become one of her team, someone she was responsible for and to.

"We need to give him some down time. All of them. In a way, it's perfect timing; I won't be releasing either John or Rodney for a few days. That's for the short term. For the long term, though she'll be able to help the two lads, I don't think Kate has the experience or tools to work with Ronon. I'm not certain anyone on Earth does."

"I agree. But I would think that his team knows him best of anyone here," I'd heard her stand. "Perhaps they can help."

Four words, just four words, and they'd almost done me in. That stone face I keep on is as much a mask as McKay's arrogant expression, or Sheppard's easy confidence, or Teyla's patient smile. It's easier for us all if we don't show ourselves too clearly. But hearing that, I had a bad couple of seconds, and if those screens had been pushed aside just a bit earlier Beckett would have had a real shock. Fortunately, by the time the screens did open I was back under control.

"The results came back, lad. I'm giving you a vitamin shot, and then you're free to go. On one condition."

"Hm?"

"Eat a good meal. Get some sleep. Take a day and do nothing. Your team is off the roster - take advantage of it. The only thing you'll need to do is make a report to Elizabeth."

I'd nodded, slipping off the bed.

"And don't be haunting the infirmary, either; they need their sleep."

"They need us," I'd replied, shucking the shirt.

"Aye, they do. But not every minute." I'd felt a hand on my shoulder. It had felt fragile; it belonged to a being I could kill in an instant. Yet these people had a power over me, and it was power I'd given them. I'd let his hand turn me. "Take time for yourself, lad. Do what you need to do, but you're home, here." Beckett's blue eyes had met mine with frankness. "Make it your home."

I'd let myself smile.

"I will," I'd replied. Home, huh? Yeah. I could do that.

OoO

McKay waited a moment for me to continue, but I just kept eating, offering no explanation, and finally McKay began to eat again too. We finished the meal in companionable silence, paying strict attention to the flavourful stew.

It wasn't till we'd finished, the last of the gravy sopped up with the last of the bread, and I had cleared the table, that I decided to try what Beckett had suggested. For me, home had been my troop, wherever we were, and now I had a new troop.

"I had a tent for a while," I said offhandedly.

"Can't see the stars through it, though."

I looked up in surprise at McKay. "No, you can't," I replied, pleased that he would understand.

I turned a chair to face the stove, brought another over, and a hassock, and gestured McKay to sit and put his feet up. Pulling the grill out, I put a larger log on, and a companion one to help it burn, and we sat and stared at the flames through the fireguard.

The fire crackled and spit as moisture in the wood turned to steam, boiling off. I couldn't help letting my memory drift to the rescue again, and the video reports Sheppard and McKay had once they'd been released – the first time. They'd been made privately to Weir, with Beckett and Heightmeyer in attendance, but they'd both indicated we were permitted to watch it, if we thought it would help. Teyla and I had agreed to view the recording of the debrief. It seemed the proper thing to do.

Sometimes I wondered, selfishly, if it had been a mistake.

Chapter 6 

The video image had been clear. Sheppard and McKay had been released that morning. The first thing they had done was to ask to make their verbal report, typing on a keyboard being a proscribed activity for the foreseeable future. Heightmeyer had agreed, thinking, Teyla had suggested, that it would help them begin to deal, and the camera had been set up next to Weir in the brightly lit briefing room. Only our two teammates were on the screen.

Weir had set the recording up and left us, and we were grateful for the privacy.

Teyla's tension was palpable. She couldn't sit at first, watching; she'd stood and paced for a few seconds until I'd reached out and stopped her, gently. She'd sat again, pulling her legs up and wrapping her arms around them, making herself as small as possible, as if what they'd endured would pass over her more completely that way - but still, she stayed. In the first fifteen minutes, our teammates had covered being separated from us by the carefully timed parade in the central square of Orna, the location of several of our trading partners – 'Planet Mall' as Sheppard had christened it. They had described being drugged, and waking in a cell.

Their manner had been controlled, the delivery as dispassionate as they could make it.

"…it was cold, and dark. Black. There was no light at all, except when they came for you. There were vents everywhere. You could hear the…what was going on below you. In the deeper chambers." Sheppard's voice was flat.

"Rats. Well, rodents." McKay was taking his cue from the pilot. They both sat on one side of the table, chairs a little closer than most human males were comfortable with, Teyla had mentioned to me. Both sets of hands folded on the surface in front of them. The video was clear enough to show the neat wrappings of the splints on their hands.

"Rodents. And noises from below. Like…like sick amusement park music. All the time."

"After a couple days, we spent most of our time in one corner, for warmth."

There was a pause.

"Did you see any of the other prisoners?"

It was a fairly innocuous question, didn't seem as potentially emotionally charged as any of the others she could've asked.

"A couple. They didn't look like Kabronians. The guards had that kind of – ridge – between their eyes. Like those Star Trek aliens." Sheppard glanced at McKay, who'd managed a wavering grin.

"Everything comes back to Star Trek, huh? You mean Bajorans. Like the Bajorans."

Sheppard quirked the corner of his mouth in an approximation of his usual smirk. "Scares me that you know that, McKay."

"Does that mean the prisoners were all from offworld?" McKay asked suddenly. "That would explain why we didn't hear much about the place from anyone else."

Sheppard shrugged. "Didn't hear anyone else getting rescued," he said dryly.

There was a creak of a chair as someone out of range of the image shifted.

"How many times were you taken from that cell?" Weir's voice, from off camera, had been quiet and contained.

"I'm – not certain," Sheppard had said, facing Weir and the camera beside her. "We couldn't speak, after the first day or so. There was no sense of day or night down there, and we never saw the same guard twice, it seemed like. And I was out of it towards the end."

"They took me at least seven times," McKay had said suddenly, and the front he was putting up was beginning to break down. "I'm sure about that much. Each time, they'd break a finger." He barked out harsh laughter. "Counting on our fingers. That would make it - five - for Sheppard. He wasn't giving them much response after they…after…with the internal bleeding…" he trailed off.

Another pause.

"Were you fed? Did you have water?"

"Not much, and not really. They'd throw a skin of water and some grainy bread in whenever they felt we'd gotten too weak. The cell was cold. Condensation helped…a bit…" Sheppard had taken on the burden of response now. Beside him, McKay had shuddered once. Sheppard had rolled his chair a bit closer.

"You said you couldn't speak."

"It's amazing what a few hours of screaming in pain will do to your vocal cords," McKay had replied bitterly. "The first couple of days, they'd bring me back and take him, then bring him back and take me."

"We tore up one of the jackets to try to keep our hands splinted. We'd do what we could, when we could. After a while we lost track of time. They took us more and more seldom. Never together…"

"…thank god…" McKay muttered beside him.

"…but sometimes…you could hear…I could hear…from below…"

Sheppard had hunched over a bit. To an untrained eye it seemed as if he'd just changed position. McKay had moved his arm so they brushed elbows, and after a few seconds Sheppard straightened again.

"We can stop if you like." He'd heard a tiny quaver in Weir's voice.

Sheppard had looked at McKay, then back at the camera. "Let's get it done."

"What information were they looking for?"

"Where we were from, how many troops we had, what our fighting force was like. But I think it was just an excuse. No matter what I said," Sheppard frowned "and I said some stuff that would have sounded plausible - they just kept working me over. Beatings, mostly. Some drugs. Electricity."

"And you, Dr. McKay?"

"Pretty much the same. They were amused that we'd try to take care of each other, after. It made them laugh. It was funny to them that we'd huddle for warmth. And when the Colonel was hurt so badly…I couldn't leave him on the floor…I knew he was bleeding internally. He breathed easier sitting."

Sheppard had glanced over, a small, sad smile on his face, but the physicist was buried in remembered pain. "Holding on to him kind of helped me, too. It was like we'd gone to purgatory, but at least we weren't alone…" the halting voice had drifted to almost a whisper, and he wasn't looking up but at his hands, eyes dark and memories far too fresh. The broken sentences were so wrong for someone whose command of language was one of his defining characteristics. "…wasn't going to let him die alone. My ribs hurt. Bastards kicked me. I felt them break." He was shivering now, almost constantly, and Sheppard had moved closer still. He'd placed one wrapped hand on McKay's folded ones, and McKay had glanced up, then down again.

"It's over," he'd said quietly. "Rodney. It's over now."

"Right," McKay had whispered. "Over." He moved one hand, laying it over Sheppard's, curling over to rest his forehead on them, shoulders shuddering. Sheppard looked up past the camera, eyes tight with concern, but Beckett had stepped into the frame, and Heightmeyer had followed, turning to face the lens. "Turn it off," she directed, pointing. "Turn the damn thing off."

OoO

I blinked, aware again, staring into the faint red glow of the embers. Sheppard and McKay had returned to the infirmary for another night under observation, Beckett giving himself six kinds of hell all the while, furious at himself for letting them out, letting them do the report. Heightmeyer had spent several hours with them, in private, and they'd been released, again, the next day. Weir had decided the report would stand as it was, and once Teyla and I had viewed it she'd marked it "Eyes Only" and sent it through on a separate databurst.

It had been deeply disturbing. I still wasn't certain it had been the best thing to do, but there was no doubt that it helped me understand some of the fresh ghosts that haunted the two. I held up a hand, seeing the warm, ruddy light along my fingers. I had some of my own ghosts, too, they were just older. Maybe Beckett was right, maybe this time off the rotation would help exorcise some of them.

McKay snorted beside me, and I nudged the man's shoulder. "Off to bed," I said.

"In a sec."

It was warm and comfortable; we'd both stretched out our legs on the hassocks, slouching down. I eyed McKay, decided he couldn't get into any trouble sleeping there for the night, and let it go. The two logs I'd put on were burning down, and I roused myself long enough to put two more on, leaning back and letting my mind roam again.


	4. Chapter 4

_Wow – got home and STACKS of reviews! Thank you all! And thank you for your patience. Part 4…_

Chapter 7

I was, and would be forever, grateful to Beckett for removing the tag. Atlantis had seemed a fine enough place for me to recover and decide where to go next – food, a reasonably safe place to sleep, and had I mentioned the food?

I was surprised when Sheppard offered me a place on the team, and I accepted it for the freedom it gave me. See, I figured I could stay with this gang until I got bored, then head out and do some of the things I'd dreamed of when I was still tagged - most of which, admittedly, involved killing Wraith in various new and interesting ways.

I felt the pressure, too, of being the only surviving member of my people, and I'd listened, as a newbie in the Satedan armed forces, when they talked in the barracks of the noble heroes who had come before. The glorious last stands taken defending our fleeing citizens, Wraith darts falling from the sky. I'd taken all those tales in.

I was very young then. But it was still that obscure idea of avenging my people – now more of a slogan in my mind than a deep-seated need – that originally kept me on Atlantis. The real reason was to revenge myself on as many of my enemy as I could. Try to take payment from them for what they'd taken from me. See, it wasn't the 'Satedan people' I wanted revenge for. It was my friends, my family. My life.

But then I found out about Kell. He'd been a traitor to his own people, and I'd taken advantage of Teyla's good will to eliminate him. I remember sitting in my room, after we'd returned, thinking about that.

I came to the conclusion I hadn't behaved very well. Mind you, it was easier to think that way, knowing that Kell was dead, than knowing he was alive and not killing him. But I realized that I was still only thinking of my own survival, and not how I could affect the survival of others – and it was evident that my old habits had to change. It wasn't really much of a shift. I just had to remember my actions had effects on my team too.

The other three I was teamed with were - well - comfortable to me; I understood them better than I thought I would. Sheppard's basic drive was to explore. Teyla's was to protect. McKay's was to learn. Their quirks and personalities meshed well, and it took some time – and an attitude shift for me from 'I' to 'We' – but I meshed too.

When Sheppard was infected with the virus, though, I finally realized I would not be moving on from Atlantis, at least not for some time.

I'd become involved again.

I blinked at the snap of the burning log. The light of the fire flickered over the room, creating dancing shapes in the corners of my eyes. I didn't hear anything worrisome, though, and the noises outside were still happy and comfortable. I glanced over at McKay, saw the glitter of his eyes, knew he was still awake, but it was warm and comfortable and movement wasn't necessary.

Inertia. It was hard to battle. I'd taught myself how, 'cause when I was running inertia was entropy, and entropy was death. I lay there, though, and for once inertia won.

But it couldn't stop me thinking.

Chapter 8 

I'd given a lot of reports in my life. I'd reminded myself of that as Weir sat behind her desk, glancing at me, at Teyla.

"Carson will let us know if there's any change, but he thinks they'll both sleep through the night. He was very pleased with their progress. The Ancient device he used has made a definite difference." She shifted a bit. "I'm sorry to ask you to do this tonight."

"We understand," Teyla had replied. I'd just nodded. I'd had a nap, a run, a shower. The fear that had sent me out of the infirmary was under control now. We'd put this report off long enough, waiting for confirmation our teammates would live. It couldn't be delayed any longer.

"Ronon."

I'd sat a bit straighter. I preferred to stand when reporting, but Weir had asked me to sit.

"Tell me what happened."

I'd stared at her a moment, assembling my thoughts.

"Lorne's team secured the tunnel entryway," I began. "As we'd discussed, the two of us headed in."

The discussion had been a bit heated, but since our ultimate aim was the same, we'd come to an agreement during the final planning we'd done before landing. The teams - and us - had been ready to go at a moment's notice, and once we'd had the intel and the 'go', we'd gone.

Teyla and I would go in, using what we knew to find our teammates. Lorne and his team would cover our access point and be backup.

"We encountered no one until we reached the main cells. The night infiltration had been a good choice."

But the workers in the lower chambers never slept. I'd paused, trying to put into words the smell, the dankness, the sounds of the unfortunates below..."It was indescribable." I said finally, giving up. "I've never been anywhere like it. A Wraith ship is bad, but they're aliens. You almost expect it. These were other humans."

The fear had stirred again, even here in Weir's office, gathering itself. To regain control, I'd stood, falling back to old habits, shrugging off the hand Teyla had laid on my arm. I knew she'd understand.

"There were two guards outside the cell. I killed them. We took the torches and went in."

And then I'd described it, words coming almost absently, the memory burned into my mind so clearly it was almost as if I were describing it just as it had happened in front of me. The guttering of the few torches in the hallways, the absolute absence of light within the cell before we arrived.

And what the light had shown us, once we'd gained entrance to the cell we'd learned held them. I still saw it, even awake, it lurked in the shadows of a bright day; Sheppard held against McKay's chest, head settled against the man's shoulder like a sleeping child in his dad's arms. I couldn't see them breathe. They didn't move.

I'd covered the distance without thinking, dropped to one knee beside them. I didn't dare touch them, just listened until I heard the shallow, wheezing breaths. They'd improvised bandages, they hadn't given up, but there were some things bandages couldn't help.

I'd found it easier to restrain myself once I'd seen the state my friends were in, realizing I had other responsibilities now, to my team. But I could still recall, without effort, the black fury I'd felt, how easily the guards went down. I could remember the horror and pity and grief in the pit of my stomach when we'd found them. But those were emotions I had no words for. I didn't bother telling about that.

Of course, it had gotten worse.

McKay had been delirious, parched, beaten and starving, but he was still trying to protect Sheppard, lost in his own world, not hearing me. I'd tried, but 'gentle' isn't one of the things I do best. I'd stepped back, letting Teyla approach, and she had spoken to him as if she were talking to a spooked animal – something else I was no good at. Finally, though, her patience had been rewarded, something had registered. She'd just kept telling him we were there, we were rescuing them, and something had broken through. He'd stared at her, then at me, blinking in the fitful light of the torch like some sort of night bird caught in the daylight. There was recognition in his face, and he'd let me take Sheppard.

It was odd. My commander's body had felt at once light and heavy in my arms. The man had never been heavy, but now, after what he'd endured, he was simply skinny.

I really tried not to let emotion colour my report, I detached myself as well as I could, but even so I faltered for a moment. There was something about that place that wasn't anything tangible. I had no use for superstition, but it seemed as if the weight of the suffering in that whole prison was in the air, like a dense fog. It was oppressive and cloying, and it was hanging over us all as I'd shifted the torch, lifted Sheppard and looked at Teyla, hoping that McKay was mobile.

"Teyla's strong, but McKay's taller," I heard myself say to Weir. "I knew if he hadn't been able to walk we'd have had to call in Lorne."

And then I'd heard steps. I'd dragged the bodies of the guards into the cell as we'd entered, but the torches would glow light where it should be dark. I'd extinguished my own by stepping on it, and Teyla had followed my lead like a trooper, trusting I had good reason without asking why. I'd dropped to my knees by Teyla and McKay, letting Sheppard down to lean against me. McKay had made a quiet, protesting noise at the loss of light, and I'd reached out in the dark to take his arm, felt as Teyla did the same, and we'd waited there together.

The dark was a living thing down there, pulsing with the sounds of pain and terror. We'd huddled against it, all four of us, and I'd listened hard, past the sounds. The halls themselves were barely lit, and I'd hoped the fact the door to this particular cell was propped open slightly would go unobserved.

The footsteps had stopped. Low voices conversed. A flame flickered as someone lit another torch, and then the footsteps continued, fading in the distance. We were safe.

"Can you bring him?" I'd whispered to Teyla. I stood again, lifting Sheppard in my arms. He was cold and clammy, and it wasn't just because of the cell temperature.

"I will," she had replied. "His ribs are injured, but we will manage."

She'd spoken quietly in McKay's ear. He didn't seem to understand, and I couldn't hear actual words, but the tone was soothing and I had felt the shift in the air, heard the scrape of fabric against stone as he responded to it, following her tugs and pulls to stand, wavering. She'd pulled his arm over her shoulder - McKay had stifled a cry and lurched, falling into me. I'd anticipated it and stood firm.

In the blackness, I'd heard her voice, quiet and compassionate, but firm. "Rodney, you must stand. We are taking you home, but you have to help us now."

The physicist had pushed up, using me as an aid to straighten. He seemed to grasp the urgency, and I found myself grateful for the man's stubbornness. He never quit.

"We are ready," Teyla had said.

"We made it back to the entryway without incident," I finished. "Chapman helped Teyla with McKay, I had Sheppard. We made it back to the jumper and left."

Weir had nodded. "Thank you, Ronon. Please..." she'd gestured to the chair.

I'd dropped my head, sunk into the chair. I had been as tired, suddenly, as I could ever remember being.

"Teyla?"

I'd sat quietly, listening as she clarified some parts, elaborated on others. The comfortable drone of their voices had washed over me, like it was water washing the dirt off my memories. I'd seen far worse, myself. But it had all came back to the fact I hadn't had anyone else to look out for in so long. I still felt a deep sense of failure.

"Ronon."

With a start, I realized Weir had said my name once already, and had repeated it.

"We're done?"

"With half of the mission personnel on turnaround back to Earth, and given the recovery period Doctor Beckett is estimating for the other half of your team, I took the liberty," she'd smiled at Teyla, "of contacting the Athosians about permitting them...all of you...what amounts to a working vacation on the mainland. They were very receptive. Teyla, can you make the arrangements?"

I hadn't needed to see her to know she was smiling. "Of course. It is an excellent idea."

"Ronon," Weir had leveled a frank gaze at me. "I understand you may have a line on some of your people. If you wanted to pursue your search..."

And I'd been surprised how easy the decision was.

"I'll stick with my team." I hadn't explained further, and she hadn't asked, just nodded.


	5. Chapter 5

_I know how long it is! Yay! It'll be nine parts. And I know I'm repeating myself, but thanks for all the reviews._

**Chapter 9**

I was drifting, half awake, the scent of the morning carried in on an errant breeze. The fire was out, and someone had gone to the washroom during the night, neglecting to close the drape fully.

I hadn't heard whoever it was. I was annoyed with myself, but part of me was trying to remember the last time I'd slept so soundly.

"Good morning!" came the faint call from outside.

I pulled myself out of the chair, glancing at the couch opposite, which was as far as McKay had made it last night after complaining his feet were getting too hot. He was waking slowly, and the drape to Sheppard's room was still down.

Now, he sat. "Who's that?" he asked, yawning.

I pulled the entry drapes open, tying them off. It was full morning, and the sky was clear, the sound of the river reaching us faintly through the trees. I looked down the path, caught sight of figures in the trees, smelled something savoury. Teyla's voice could be heard, along with others.

"Breakfast," I said, pleased.

McKay stood and stretched. "I'll get Sheppard up," he said, and I left him to it, heading outside.

OoO

For the first couple of days, we did little more than eat, sleep, and talk. McKay and Sheppard read. I had acquired the basics of their written language, and I practiced some. Teyla had mastered it and helped me when Sheppard or McKay were too absorbed, but she and I spent a lot of time sparring, with an enthusiastic audience of kids. We stayed around the camp, the first days. It wasn't by request, or plan. We didn't want to split up, is all.

Beckett joined us for a "house call", he called it, at lunch, and stayed until supper the first day, then arrived just after breakfast the second day. I got the feeling this was as much a holiday for him as for us.

That evening we all ended up sprawled lazily around the fire, Sheppard reclining against a pile of cushions, and McKay sitting in one of the armchairs, feet up on a stump. I was feeding the fire as needed, and Teyla was talking quietly with Beckett to one side.

"I think that would be fine," I heard the doctor say. "If they hadn't the gene, it would have been another week or two before we could have considered it."

I poked the fire, watched the sparks climb into the darkening sky. I knew humans, as a rule, didn't recover as rapidly as had Sheppard and McKay, and had gone in search of an explanation. "The Ancients were advanced in the healing arts, as well," Beckett had explained in that accent of his. All the places I've been, I've never heard anything like it. The first couple of weeks I was here I took every opportunity to listen to him talk. "If either of the lads were true Ancients, they'd be whole and hearty now. As it is, though, these machines will speed the knitting of the bones and the closing of the incisions quite considerably. Even with the diluted gene it's amazing the progress they're making."

The resinous smell of the burning wood tickled my nose, and I sneezed. The wind had shifted, and I was in the smoke again. Sighing, I stood and shifted to one side, glancing at Sheppard as I did so. The man was frankly dozing, and McKay wasn't far behind.

"Think we should call it a night," I said.

Teyla looked up, then around, and nodded. "I agree."

It took only a few moments to persuade the other two, and then we saw Beckett off. Teyla joined me in the main room. Catching sight of McKay's curtain hanging open slightly, she made to close it, but I shook my head. "Dark," I said, and she understood.

She sank down on one of the cushions, beside me, with that grace that attracted admiring glances from - well - pretty much everyone. "You are well?"

I sighed. Earthers were always on about things. Talk, talk, talk. Maybe Teyla had picked up their habits. Still, I didn't want to be rude. "Better. Eating well. Sleeping…well enough."

"Dreams?"

"Nightmares."

She nodded. "I am having them as well. They are…disturbing."

I looked over. She was looking into the fire, and her face was obscured by her hair, but there was something in her voice. "Stay, if you want. I'm going to keep the fire in. You could use my room."

She drew a breath, and I could sense 'no', but then she looked up at me, and then over to Sheppard's room, and McKay's, and it changed. "Yes, I would like that."

I grunted, shifting some pillows behind me. I'd slept in far worse places and conditions. She stayed nearby for a short time, then rose.

"Goodnight, Ronon," she said.

"Night," I responded.

There was something about fire, I decided, a rhythm that seemed to take me back to my earliest memories, as a child hunting with my father. They were pleasant memories, for the most part. The problem was, though, they never lasted. They were elbowed out by more recent, less pleasant ones.

Here, though, sprawled in front of a fire with the three people who had come to mean the most to me sleeping nearby, here on my own, unchased, with plenty of time to think, I decided I could put up with whatever memories came.

Chapter 10 

It had taken far too long, and all the favours and markers we had to locate our missing people.

Weir had been canny, sending Teyla - as the person with the most experience in trade negotiations - and three of their soldiers - chosen for non-threatening appearance and proficiency in unarmed combat. It had turned out that the second ability was more useful. The four had barely made it back, but the intel had been vital. The hack of the primitive computer system gave us all the information we needed...more than I wanted.

The briefing had been hard. I had to control myself at the descriptions of what they were doing to my teammates.

But I could remember feeling a fierce pride, as well. We knew that the captors had been stymied by the lack of useable intel from their alien prisoners. The first reports, when Sheppard was trying misinformation, were enthusiastic. The responses from their superiors, who evidently knew more than the interrogators, were scathing. Then, there had been a long, rambling message sent from the warden's office to the seat of government trying to justify the lack of useful information retrieved.

The description of the techniques they'd tried had been - difficult - to read, though it had helped Beckett anticipate the injuries the rescue team would be dealing with. From other records, it had appeared that the entire society was organized so that survival was the only aim - children were born of loveless, temporary unions, past a certain age seniors were discarded in small colonies to live or die without assistance, and suicide of citizens no longer useful - the ill, those injured in accidents - was encouraged.

The prisoners were classified as criminals, but seemed to be from other planets – visitors like we were, maybe. Other explorers. The problem with a society of this sort was that rebellion would be a constant threat, and with the Stargate available there were options for those who were brave enough. They managed to create fear, though. When you're raised in a place that does terrible things to its visitors, then you're more inclined to think that anywhere you'd go you'd get the same treatment. The bodies that were left outside the gates, every now and then, were so badly disfigured as to act as a deterrent.

When the Wraith came, they had easy pickings from the old and infirm – not the best food around, but given a quick meal with quantity, they'd take it over spending energy chasing down younger meat. It was a practical solution, I thought, and it had enabled the society to develop almost as far as the Olesians, using the same principal. I knew, though, that when the Wraith arrived this time, they wouldn't be satisfied with old meat. It was conceivable their whole society would be destroyed.

Somehow, I felt I could live with that.

OoO

The third morning started as the first two had, but after breakfast Teyla glanced over at us and wrinkled her nose.

"We're not that bad!" Sheppard protested. "We've washed every day we've been here. Hot water, too."

She shook her head. "We have found something much better." And she resisted all enticements to clarify the statement, counseling patience.

OoO

"So, are we there yet?" McKay asked for the ninth time. The mid-day meal had arrived, and with it Beckett, ubiquitous medical kit with him.

It had been nine times McKay had asked. I had counted.

"Does it look like it?" Sheppard snapped.

McKay glanced around. "Not stopping. Nowhere to sit. Nothing to eat. Nope. We're not there yet."

"Knew you were that smart for a reason," Sheppard sighed, concentrating on the path.

I had questioned Beckett about their ability to manage the mile hike, but the doctor had been confident. "It's largely mental at this point," he'd assured me. "In fact, it could prove to them they're recovering exceptionally well."

It seemed to work. Their stiffness, that marked them to anyone watching as the weakest of the group, was vanishing as we walked. Sheppard was regaining his saunter, and McKay, his meander that somehow managed to keep up with the rest. He was regaining his voice, too.

There was silence for a moment.

"Are we there yet?"

Sheppard rounded on him. "McKay...!" but the rest of it died in his throat, and I glanced at the physicist, wondering what could cut short a Sheppard dress-down.

McKay was grinning at the Colonel. Just a grin, and it wasn't anything like the self-conscious ones, the apologetic ones, or the tight and mirthless ones I was used to seeing.

I saw the man grin and realized I'd never seen McKay truly happy before. Never. Until now.

They were alive. They'd survived an unimaginable ordeal, and they were alive and recovering, and all that grin said was that he was happy to be there.

Sheppard's face folded into a responding smile, and it grew into an amiable chuckle.

"Goof," he said, elbowing the physicist in a friendly way.

"Please. Goof. That's the best you can do?" McKay snorted.

"Descriptive, yet understated," Sheppard replied, the smile resolving itself to a smirk.

"Kiddies," Beckett stepped in. "We're here."


	6. Chapter 6

_And everything seems so peaceful...for now..._

Chapter 11

I stood back and let them through the cave entrance first, bringing up the rear and re-arranging the vines the way they'd looked before Teyla had pushed them aside.

Inside, we paused to let our eyes adjust.

I sniffed the air. It was moist, with a pleasant undertone of something I couldn't place. There was a constant, low mutter in the background, almost like voices, but as I listened harder I realized I couldn't hear any actual words. Whatever it was, it wasn't people.

Teyla lit a torch. From the corner of my eye I saw McKay step closer to Sheppard, the rock walls and flickering light undoubtedly bringing back some bad memories.

"It's ok, Rodney," Sheppard responded softly, and McKay nodded, glanced searchingly at the pilot a moment, and moved back where he'd been. Sheppard touched McKay's arm briefly, almost absently, but it seemed to me that it was as much for his own comfort as the physicist's. I dropped back, 'covering their six' as Sheppard put it, and gave them some space.

Teyla led the way. It was a well-worn path, almost wide enough for two to walk abreast, and it showed signs of having been recently cleared. Small piles of screed were mounded at the side, and some larger rock as well. I'd lit a torch off Teyla's, and now I held it high for a moment, examining the ceiling. Rock had flaked away, and there were supports spaced along the tunnel, seemingly cast from a black stone that absorbed light.

"Definitely manmade." I observed.

"Ancient made, Ronon," Teyla's voice carried back, and I realized the acoustics of the place meant even a whisper would be heard.

I grunted acknowledgement, following the rest down a gentle slope, around a corner...and out into a bright, misty scene.

The change of light dazzled me for an instant. I recovered faster than the others, muscles tensing automatically against attack, scanning the surroundings. Old habits die hard.

The light came from above, crevices in the rock that let shafts of light into the cavern. It reflected off and into a cloudy rock in the walls that bounced the brightness throughout, lighting the drifting, see-through mist. That mist came from a string of pools that took up most of the area, all connected to a main, bubbling hot spring by streams and waterfalls. I counted five large ones, and several smaller ones.

The others looked around in wonder.

"You didn't mention this," Sheppard said, finally.

"I did," Teyla responded with asperity. "Several months ago. I believe Dr. Weir suggested one of the geologists might come out to study it, but as it has happened, you," she included all of them with her gesture "are the first from the city to come."

"Never was a hot tub kind of guy," McKay muttered. At Sheppard's elbow, though, he glanced at Teyla. "Never too late to try, though, right?" He looked around. "It is pretty down here."

"It is that," Sheppard agreed. "What do we do?"

She smiled tolerantly. "There are changing areas through that arch. It appears the Ancients also disliked being nude, there were scraps of cloth that we presume they wore into the water, but we do not bother."

McKay looked like he'd swallowed a crystal. "Naked?"

"Thank you, lass," Beckett said. "We appreciate this." He turned to Sheppard and McKay. "Ok, the both of you, in there and strip."

"Naked?" McKay squeaked.

I saw that Sheppard had his reservations, too, but the pilot wouldn't admit to them, enjoying McKay's discomfort. Earthers had a keen sense of propriety, or at least the ones from the continent where the two originated did. I still had trouble wrapping my mind around the idea of having not just thousands or millions, but billions of people on a planet.

"Well, if you want to put these on..." Beckett held up two pairs of shorts "to go in with..."

McKay snatched a pair. "How about the rest of you?" he demanded. Sheppard grinned, took a pair as well. Beckett handed me mine.

Teyla cleared her throat. "I will leave you now," she said. "Enjoy yourselves. I will send one of the children when the evening meal is prepared."

She left. I watched three pairs of eyes follow her trim form until she vanished in the mist.

"They go in naked, huh?" McKay said softly. As usual, with time on our hands, we'd had a couple of – chats – about women. It was normal, I'd found, for men with nothing else to do.

Sheppard whacked McKay with his shorts. "Behave! She's on your team."

"Oh, like you weren't thinking the same thing."

I took the shorts Beckett held out. "You should be glad she didn't hear that." I said, and turned to head for the change room.

And stopped, snickering, as Teyla's voice floated back. "I heard that."

"Darn acoustics." Sheppard muttered, following Beckett.

OoO

I was changed and ready before the others, so I sat and watched. Another propriety of these people was that a doctor examined a patient behind closed doors, but Beckett hadn't asked me to leave and I didn't volunteer.

Beckett peeled the bandages from Sheppard's incisions first. They were angry red weals, but they were well closed and only a bit tender. McKay's ribs had almost healed, and though the bruises were vivid yellow and purple on them both, Beckett seemed pleased. Sheppard's ease of motion in his hands satisfied the Scot, and he removed the last of the splints. McKay's had been more damaged, and he ended up with a couple of fingers self-splinted. "For a few more days," Beckett said, and waved them out.

I sat as Beckett cleared up, watching. Finally, though, the doctor had finished, bagged the detritus to be returned to Atlantis, and stood, looking at me as if he could read my mind. And it turned out he could.

"D'you see, lad?" he said kindly. "Mending, both of them. Your team will be ready to go in ten days. Maybe less."

I nodded once, outwardly indifferent, but inside, I took a moment to thank my childhood gods that I'd ended up in Atlantis.

"Thanks." was all I said, though.

It was all Beckett expected. He grinned at me, and headed out.

Chapter 12 

"So now you see what you've been missing, not being a hot-tub person," Sheppard observed, leaning back against the wall, arms on the ledge. We were in the largest of the pools. It wasn't the warmest, but Beckett had given it his approval, happy that the temperature permitted a far safer extended soak than did some of the others. I mimicked his pose, as did Beckett. McKay floated in the middle. There was still room for more.

We'd used the lowest pool as the Athosians did, to wash. The constant flow of water from the spring kept it fresh, but it was the coolest of the lot and the final pool of any real depth – it gave into a stream that disappeared into the earth and likely made its way to the sea. The other pools grew warmer the tighter into the rough spiral we went. We'd spent some time splashing experimentally in each pool, settling on the one with the best compromise of size and warmth.

"I'll concede that point," McKay replied. He ducked and surfaced, what hair he had plastered over his forehead. "I guess we'll have to tell the others about this place, huh?" He sounded a bit regretful as he lay back and floated again, turning gently in the eddy of the water flow like a rather larger than normal leaf on the surface of a stream.

"As Teyla pointed out, they've already been informed..." Sheppard trailed off under Beckett's disapproving stare. "Ok, ok. We'll tell Elizabeth. She can take it from there."

"When we get back." I made the suggestion in my deepest, most resonant tone, and Beckett eyed me.

"Of all people, lad, don't you think she deserves a hot soak now and again?"

I sighed, nodded.

"I'll tell her when I go back." Beckett said, smiling.

"Meantime, I think we should come by here every day. For medicinal purposes, of course." Sheppard floated his feet up, pushing McKay lightly on the shoulder. McKay slid through the water, bumping gently off the wall. He sank with a yelp and bobbed up again, scowling.

"You are so dead," he growled. He was learning, I noted. The growl didn't have quite my tone, but it was getting there. He dove again, and Sheppard had a second's warning before he was tugged down too. The horseplay lasted only a few moments before both were leaning on the wall, panting hard. McKay was whining about his ribs, too, but the effect was spoiled by the grin he couldn't wipe off.

I'd glanced at Beckett when Sheppard first vanished, but the doctor had just shrugged, an amused, tolerant expression on his face.

OoO

It became our routine. We'd wake, eat, do the housekeeping the camp required, then take the twenty-five minute walk to the springs. We'd spend the morning there, then dress and join the Athosians in the village, helping with the work that needed to be done. We'd eat our afternoon and evening meals there, join the rest of the village around the main fire for a story or two, and head back by the moonlight. A quick dip to wash off the grime of the day, and then we'd be back in the tents for the evening. The kids took turns, and they had it down to an art – the stove would be lit when we got back, kettle approaching a boil.

The twenty-five minute walk became twenty, then fifteen, as Sheppard and McKay mended. I found some ease in the simple life, as well; Halling and I rebuilt the main shelter for the smaller food animals, felled and barked several trees ready for planking, and cleared a field of stumps. Sheppard and McKay were drafted into the picking gangs for the bumper crop of beans and squash. "Good physical therapy," Beckett was heard to comment.

Remarkably, McKay's complaints were minimal. Given the alternative, which was boredom, he pitched in with a will. I had learned quickly that the one thing McKay could not tolerate was being bored. It didn't silence him. Only a problem – or unconsciousness – did that.

Our main tent was littered with tiny wooden plows as he tried to design a more efficient blade configuration. It made sitting an adventure - the chairs had to be inspected before use, or there was a good chance of being poked in the butt. It happened a couple of times, but I realized getting mad wouldn't help. I planted one in his bed one night, and the next evening all the models were lined up on the table by way of apology.

Doctor Weir visited us twice, bringing a couple of what Earthers usually used for swimming. She and Teyla spent a considerable time in a slightly warmer pool than the one we used, and their laughter was as pleasant as it was unexpected.

Teyla slept in my tent more often than not. I had re-discovered my talent for waking just enough to keep a fire lit, and the dreams and memories were beginning to - if not fade - assume their true place in my life, as dreams. And memories.


	7. Chapter 7

_They've got to get back on the horse, right?_

Chapter 13

I roused, as usual, when the fire quieted. Fumbling for a couple chunks of wood, I rolled over, coming fully awake when I realized I wasn't alone. The scent and the shape were familiar, though, and posed no threat, so I placed the logs, prodded the coals till they flared again, and stood.

McKay was slouched in a corner, on one of the couches. He didn't budge when I moved over and sat next to him. He didn't say anything. I didn't either, knowing McKay well enough that the mutual silence wouldn't last.

"Bored yet?" the physicist asked, not looking up.

"Fire's nice to watch," I replied neutrally.

"Bet you've watched a lot of fires." Uncharacteristically, he was keeping the conversation going.

"Lots of them." I wasn't going to make it easy. There was something on the man's mind, and given enough silence, I knew it would make its way out. And there was something I'd noticed about McKay in the last few days, a hesitancy, that made me suspect I knew exactly what it was.

"Lots of them." McKay repeated, and there was nothing for several moments but the crackle of the fire. Finally, McKay stood, moving stiffly, as if his ribs still hurt. It was the memory of pain, I was willing to bet, rather than the actuality of it. So many things in memory affected the present.

"Something?" I asked.

"Nah. It's nothing. I'm going back to bed." McKay stood, and turned, but I said something so baldly he stopped.

"You're afraid you've lost it."

McKay swung around. "What?"

I was on the right track, I could feel it. "It takes a certain kind of person to do what we do. And it takes something in yourself that lets you do it. And you're afraid you've lost it."

McKay's back was straight, and he was clearly angry. "How can you lose what you never had?"

That was unexpected. "What?"

McKay took a couple of steps. "You and Teyla - you're from here. You've grown up with the Wraith. Not the best boogeyman, granted, and worse because they actually exist, but you guys - you're hunters. And Sheppard, Mr. "Air Force", Mr. "Trained to Command", he loves this stuff, this - new world. He's Kirk. And me?" He laughed bitterly. "Chickenshit scientist, from a country that can hardly defend itself, handed his dream job as long as I don't mind if I face death on a regular basis, oh and by the way there's these aliens that would love to suck your life out. Or the life of anyone you've managed, by some odd quirk of fate, to become friends with." The words had a sense of release about them, as if they'd been burning in him to say for days. "We go out there, I'm always scared, wondering who I'll get killed this time." He fell silent.

"I thought being on Sheppard's team was voluntary," I said. "Why'd you say yes?" I was puzzled by the outburst, and didn't bother covering it up.

There was a long pause. "It was my ego," McKay said finally. "It always is. Sheppard asked me in front of my lab monkeys, you think I wouldn't say yes? That's why he did it there, the bastard! He didn't want me to have a chance to think about it, and asking me there, he knew what I'd say." He started pacing, hands punctuating his words. "He knew from Antarctica that I don't back down from a challenge, and that I'm always - well, pretty much always - right. And he absolutely was certain that I couldn't say no, not to what was the ultimate challenge here; to be on the lead team…to be going out there…" he trailed off. "So, he walked right in while we were still setting up and said 'Hey, McKay, I need a scientist on my team, what do you say?' and everyone went quiet, and they were looking at me. They were surprised." It was almost as if he were talking to himself, now. "When I said 'yes', they were even more surprised. It…it was a rush."

"You could've quit."

"I was tempted, Lord knows. I was really, really tempted. We did some offworld training, and I was on the verge of saying 'screw this' and going back to my lab, and then we got stuck on the jumper and I - kept us alive. And…" he stopped "I was really part of a team, you know? It was like - like the last three or four days of a really big experiment, when everything you've worked for and on starts to come together, and you have maybe twenty-four hours that will make the last four years of research and eighteen hour days pay off, and when it does and you have that few minutes it's better than the best sex you've ever had; after all the work is done and you have your results and before you start worrying about funding the next project and what it'll be…"

He ran out of words and energy at about the same time, sinking back on the couch next to me. "When Sheppard started breathing, after we'd landed, when Beckett brought him back, it felt like that. You know? And I went back to my lab, and sat there for most of the night and thought about that, and then I went and sat with Sheppard till he really woke up, and I never told him I thought about quitting."

"Bet he knew anyway."

"Yeah. Maybe. He never said."

"So what's changed?"

McKay said nothing at first, rubbing his mended ribs absently. "You know what?" he said finally, puzzled. "I don't know."

"All this and you don't know." I said it as neutrally as possible.

"I guess…nothing. Nothing's changed, has it?" The surprise was almost comical, but the frustration had eased, as if telling me his story had reminded him of the reasons he agreed to join the mission in the first place. "Nothing at all, really. Still scared."

"Good."

"Good?"

I smiled a bit. "I like fear. Keeps me sharp."

There was a heavy sigh from McKay. "…typical military…" he muttered. "Have to make a strength out of a weakness."

I shut up. There wasn't much more to say, but sitting there I felt some of the tension go out of him and I knew it had helped.

I wasn't surprised when McKay stood, a few moments later. "G'night," he told me, heading for his bed.

Chapter 14 

"McKay. Ronon. C'mere."

Sheppard's voice echoed in the back rooms. We'd had our morning dip and were preparing for the walk to the village. Sheppard had poured a cup of water from the earthenware flask and wandered off, deeper into the series of rooms that gave off the cavern.

We'd taken to wandering, each of us, alone, over the last week or so. Beckett had said Sheppard and McKay would be good to move back to the city within a few days and I found myself looking forward to it more than I'd expected. As well as we all got along, we were also all strong personalities and for all its size it was, as it turned out, a far smaller tent than we'd first thought. And a small village. There had been several disagreements - 'spats', Sheppard had called them. Fortunately, we'd realized it was due to proximity, and as a result, and most sensibly, the walks had substituted for the yelling.

The underground had proven more extensive than first thought. Sheppard had taken to mapping it. Room after room - for massages, some of them, judging by the remains of the tables; for saunas; for exercise.

I didn't hear any concern or worry in his voice, just interest, and so I took the time to towel my hair properly - if I didn't it dripped down my back for hours - before pulling my shirt on. Long before I was done, though, McKay had dried off, rubbed the remains of his hair, dressed and headed back. I considered shaving my head for about a second, dismissed the idea just as fast, and followed.

Sheppard was standing in front of a carved wall at the end of a long room. Part of the carving was obscured by roots from the trees above, and there had been a rock fall to one side. Sheppard gestured for us to stand in the middle of the room.

"Back up a bit. Bit more." He waved us back, then to the side. Finally happy, he stopped us.

"Now, look here," he pointed to the wall, tracing an all but invisible line. "And here." He took four large paces, traced another vertical line that was partially obscured by the rock fall.

"Now up about nine feet." Earth measures had been annoying, but I'd figured out 'feet' without much effort. Another faint line joined the first two horizontally.

"A door?" There was an eager light in McKay's eyes that belied our late night conversation a few days ago, and it relieved concerns I didn't know I'd had.

"Yup. Now, come over here a minute."

Sheppard stood between us, cup in hand. Once we were close enough to see, he tipped it, pouring a bit of water onto the stone floor. It drained away, through a tiny gap, behind the door.

There was a pause.

"Oh, we have GOT to open this," McKay exclaimed. He pulled out the penlight he always carried and began examining the edges. "Has to be Ancient, meaning there has to be a panel," he muttered.

Forgotten, Sheppard joined me. "What d'ya think?"

I grinned at my commander. "We have got to open this," I said.

Sheppard returned the grin, nodding.

"But we need a bit more equipment," he decided. "McKay! You planning on exploring in your shorts?"

OoO

I idled outside the jumper, half-listening to the voices within. Weir sounded interested, and had agreed that it needed further research, but had quashed any idea of us doing it on our own. A jumper was being outfitted and would be joining us the next morning, with proper equipment and Lorne. Sheppard and McKay had objected to the delay, naturally, and Weir had over-ridden those objections, also naturally.

"It's been there this long, gentlemen," she'd said, and her tone was similar to a long-suffering, incredibly patient taskmaster. "It can wait a bit longer."


	8. Chapter 8

_Getting there, folks. I will be sorry to see the end of this, I must say._

Chapter 15 

Unsurprisingly, everyone was up before dawn. Several of the children saw Lorne's jumper arriving and ran to meet the visitors. Teyla had passed on the news of the impending exploration to the rest of the village. It was a rather large group of onlookers that collected, which turned out to be handy as Lorne began to offload a surprising amount of material.

"It's a scouting mission, not a new colony," Sheppard commented, watching the procession of boxes.

"Dr. Zelenka collected most of this stuff. Apparently, Dr. McKay was on the horn to him overnight and made a few requests."

"Oh, he did, did he?" Sheppard drawled, eyeing the physicist.

I watched the colonel approach McKay, who was elbow-deep in a crate. A discussion began, which got louder and more animated before ending with McKay stalking off in disgust.

"Huh." Lorne's grunt caught my attention, and the soldier grinned at me. "Back to normal, looks like."

I nodded, and Lorne's grin widened. "Kind of good to see," the Major admitted. "The rest - they were pretty worried."

"Not you?" I raised an eyebrow.

Lorne shrugged. "Me? Nah." He pulled a case down and handed it to me. "Not worried at all."

I looked at the man, remembering the flight back after the rescue. "Right," I agreed. Sarcasm wasn't only a talent of the Earthers, after all, and I was practicing it whenever I could.

"One case! One!" Sheppard hollered after McKay.

OoO

They'd compromised, the two of them. Several of the observing Athosians had been drafted into helping with some of the material that McKay swore couldn't be done without. It included several different interfaces, and a small, powerful and portable generator that had arrived two trips ago on Daedelus with a big red bow and a 'Happy Birthday Rodney, love Sam' card attached. I'd asked if Sam was his brother. It was an honest mistake. The only Sam I'd met up 'til then was male. I didn't think it justified the reaction, but then that's McKay.

Still, even though we had the extra help, a large amount remained in the jumper and McKay was casting longing glances behind us as we started to make the trek.

"No one is going to carry it, McKay," Sheppard told him unfeelingly.

"I wouldn't have foregone my beauty sleep, Sheppard, if I hadn't thought we would possibly need all of that."

"We can send some folks back if it comes to that. Quit mooning over it and come on."

"Mooning?" The indignant voice faded as I dropped back. Teyla was bringing up the rear, with a gaggle of children following.

"It's not a mission, it's a social outing," I grumbled to her. She looked up at me, calm as always.

"I am happy to see such enthusiasm," she replied, letting a small child down off her back. Leaning down to the child, she patted his shoulder. "Go find your mother," she said quietly, and straightened up.

"I have had several conversations with the Colonel," she continued. "He was most concerned, for himself and for Rodney. He had no joy in life for many days, Ronon. Simple survival was not enough for him and he was afraid that, perhaps, he would find no reason to do more than simply survive."

"McKay spoke to me. Something similar." I didn't elaborate, and she didn't ask. I wasn't surprised he'd spoken to her, though; they'd been together longer. I was just glad he'd done that. It made me wonder why McKay had decided to talk to me. Didn't think we had that much in common.

On the other hand, maybe that was why.

"Doctor Heightmeyer has said, before, that shared pain is halved, shared joy is doubled. She said it was a quote by a spider."

I glanced at her, but she was serious.

"I did not understand her reference to the origin of the saying, but the concept appears to be valid." She gestured ahead, where Lorne was chatting with Halling. Sheppard and McKay were deep in discussion, and the various Athosians who had volunteered to serve as pack animals were looking like they were beginning to regret it. It was a pleasant scene.

I grunted. It was something to think about.

"This has been a success, as well, for my people," she changed the subject smoothly. "Doctor Weir has suggested the encampment remain after you have left, to be used by others from the city in need of a 'vacation'. Having helpers for the harvest, or for planting, would be of benefit to us. It is a positive situation for all."

I nodded and admitted, "I'd come back."

Though maybe for a slightly less grim reason, I added to myself.

**Chapter 16**

It had taken McKay only about half an hour to get the generator hooked up, and he waved Sheppard over.

"You found it, you open it," he said magnanimously.

It was a panel very much like the ones on the hanger doors in the city, and he opened it the same way. It shuddered and jumped a bit, as it ground over the uneven floor, but before long it was open and gaping. The power supply had turned on the lights inside, those that had survived, and the huge door opened onto a landing that appeared, for all the world, to be designed like the control deck in Atlantis. The same sort of architecture, the same arrangement of stairs going down to a similar, raised area, only there was no gate there. Instead, transparent, coloured glass doors reached the height of the room.

"They loved their space," Lorne said beside me, and I glanced down. "Building this must have taken ages," the man clarified, and I nodded. Sheppard was leading McKay and Teyla down the stairs, and I followed, with the major bringing up the rear. Halling kept the rest back. Up ahead, Sheppard and McKay had reached the doors.

They slid open as the two approached. Inside, there was a diagram, familiar, and McKay frowned.

"It looks like a huge transporter," he said. "This thing could take fifty people at a time. Wonder where it originates? We've never seen anything like it on the city."

"We've never found anything like it on the city," Sheppard corrected. "Size of Manhattan, remember?"

McKay nodded, reading over the information on the walls. "Holy cow."

"What?"

McKay pointed to something that looked like a tiny diagram of the snowflake shape that generally symbolized Atlantis. "If it were fully powered, this would reach the city itself," he said, astonished. "There's a couple other places it'll go, but can you imagine how useful that would be? A back door, easy evacuation if you needed it. There have to be more of these around, somewhere."

"The cavern couldn't take more than a couple hundred," objected Lorne.

"Not more here, Major. More on the mainland. We have to find out where this thing's counterpart is on the city, and see where else they built these bunkers."

"I do not think this was a bunker, Rodney," Teyla objected. "There is no evidence of any sort of emergency food or accommodations."

"Well, maybe…maybe it was mostly a recreational center, but there's no arguing it would be a really efficient way of clearing out the city if they needed to. It wouldn't have done them any good when the Wraith were attacking, but if there was a crisis and the city was damaged or something, they could move their population fairly efficiently. I still think there must be more."

She glanced up at me, and I shrugged slightly.

"You said it had to have enough power," I observed.

"Well, yes. With what we have, we could maybe make it to…" he pointed to the map. "There. It's somewhere near the beach. Has to be a good forty miles from here."

"Could we get back?" Sheppard asked the obvious question.

"If we couldn't, we could always just shoot up a flare." McKay sounded exasperated. "Come on, Sheppard, maybe this is a - a library, or a really good restaurant."

Sheppard raised an eyebrow, and I knew we'd be going, but it couldn't be that easy. Not with McKay. "A restaurant," he stated. "That's what you think about."

"A beautiful seaside location," McKay responded sarcastically. "You'd pay extra for the view."

"Right." Sheppard stepped inside, followed by Lorne, Teyla and me. "You coming?"

"Oh. Right." McKay grabbed his weapon, his computer, and his backpack. "Yeah."

He stepped in, and Sheppard waved to Halling. "Back soon."

The doors closed.


	9. Chapter 9

_Last part! This was an interesting journey. I still wish I could have extended the ending a bit, but it's one of the restrictions of writing from only one point of view that you can only describe what your character sees. It was a nifty exercise and I have really, sincerely appreciated everyone's response. Now I will retreat back into my cave and await the next plot bunny._

**Chapter 17**

It took some pushing to open the doors on the other side. The rockfalls had been worse here, and what appeared to be a control console had been partially obliterated by a pile that was almost my height.

"It worked," McKay muttered.

"What?" asked Lorne.

"I wasn't certain powering one side of the system would power the other, but the drain on the generator seemed double what I would have expected, so obviously there is some sort of mechanism tying the two as far as that goes."

Sheppard stepped closer. "And if it hadn't?" he asked quietly, and the tone was almost dangerous.

"Then we just wouldn't have gone anywhere, of course." McKay read between the lines. "What, you think I'd experiment like that? With a chance we'd disintegrate? You insult me, Colonel."

And it seemed as if he were, indeed, insulted. He stalked away, bags in hand, muttering to himself. To his credit, Sheppard looked a bit sheepish, but I kept him from going after the miffed scientist.

"He won't even remember it in a few minutes," I told him, waving around at the room. The one main console was mostly crushed, but there were others around, several dark hallways leading off, a number of large pillars and a wide curving ramp led up to what had to be the ocean shore. "Let's see what we can find."

With Teyla and Lorne remaining behind with McKay, we headed for the ramp. I glanced back, and Teyla looked up at me, an odd expression on her face that I couldn't read at that distance. Sheppard was ahead of me, though, and "Hey, slowpoke!" floated back, so I turned and followed him up.

It climbed in a lazy spiral for about thirty feet, then our way was blocked by a pile of debris that filled in the area almost completely. Sheppard handed his weapon to me and scaled to the top, flashlight in hand. He all but disappeared, then I heard a sharp exclamation. Sheppard slid back down, grabbing his gun.

"It's a crashed dart. Back down, now!"

We took off at a dead run.

"Colonel!" It was Teyla calling, distressed. "The Wraith…" her voice was cut off as the sound of a stunner snapped in the air. We made it to the bottom in time to see Lorne make a lunge for her and fall, stunned.

The Wraith was well hidden, but he didn't have an angle on us or we'd have already been taken down. We stood back, tight against the wall, and saw two more shots hit the panel McKay had taken refuge behind.

Sheppard tapped his com. "McKay, where is he?"

"Can't tell," I heard in my own earpiece. "Teyla shoved me back here and tried to warn Lorne. You see what happened."

He sounded slightly breathless, but not panicked.

Sheppard nodded to himself, then glanced my way for a second and pointed at Lorne. I nodded back, and he angled himself for Teyla, counting down on his fingers, three, two, one, now. Before we'd taken more than a few steps, though, I heard the whisper of movement behind and to the side of us as the Wraith changed position. I took two running steps and dove sideways, pushing Sheppard down as another bolt splattered overhead. McKay crouched behind the main console, weapon at the ready.

"Cover us!" Sheppard hollered, and McKay laid down a stream of fire as we pulled ourselves up and ran for cover.

Then the world tipped over.

OoO

It had to have been a near miss.

I lay on my side, unable to move but still conscious. It had to have just skimmed me, I knew, or I'd be out for the count. The tipped world began to move past me and I realized I was being pulled behind the rock pile. Sheppard rolled me over and I could feel fingers at my neck. I tried to blink, managed. Tried to move my mouth. A finger. Anything.

"He's alive, but he's paralyzed," I heard Sheppard say to McKay, who was out of my line of vision.

"Damn. But that means it's on stun, so Teyla and Lorne are ok. Teyla had said something about Wraith nearby, just before you showed up, but then it started firing. You saw what happened." He sounded miserable, but Sheppard shook his head.

"It had to have been waiting in one of the hallways, saw the lights come on. The dart is fairly recent. I think it might even have crashed during the siege."

"How come the beacon didn't go off?"

"Maybe it was damaged? Who knows. It's been here a while."

It can't leave, I wanted to say. I managed a grunt, and McKay leaned forward.

"We can't let it get past us. The transporter's been initiated; it'd go back to the cavern. All the rest are there."

"And it would have gone up and out if it could. I'm betting the ramp's collapsed even more farther up."

There was a pause. I concentrated on moving.

"I have an idea." McKay's voice was tinged with dread.

"I'm not gonna like this, am I?"

"You'll like it a lot better than I will. Listen, the wraith blast is like a lightening strike. If it wings you or hits you, you're down. But what if you're insulated from it? By, say, another body?"

Sheppard frowned. "What?"

And my ears began to roar, and I wondered whether maybe it was more than a graze after all.

**Chapter 18**

I roused again at hands fumbling around my waist. I managed a grunt of protest, but it was Sheppard who leaned over, grabbing my vest, not a Wraith. With McKay on the other side, they hoisted me to a sitting position, which immediately improved my field of vision. McKay put the handgun he normally carried into my hand, curling my limp fingers around it.

"We need your gun," Sheppard said. "Just for a bit."

He sat down, then laid full length on the ground, on his side, as if he'd been hit. He took my weapon in his right hand, and then let it drop behind artistically, hiding it from whoever might see him from the front. McKay pulled the nylon straps on Sheppard's vest out a bit more, grasping them firmly. I realized that he wasn't actually touching Sheppard at all, and the plan became a bit clearer.

"Ready?" Sheppard asked.

"Hell, no," replied McKay.

"Good. Go."

Taking a deep breath, McKay backed out of cover, pulling Sheppard as if heading for the transporter. And as we'd all known would happen, the blast hit him squarely, dropping him like a rock.

I couldn't see either of them moving. I worked at closing my hand, needing to have some protection, some way to take it down if the plan hadn't worked, but I was still numb. In my mind, I leapt over the rocks and throttled the Wraith by hand. In practice, I couldn't scratch my nose.

Sheppard lay still. I couldn't tell if he was really unconscious or just playing dead. Footsteps sounded, echoing in the stone cave. They paced cautiously, stopping at Lorne and Teyla first, pausing only for a few seconds, and then continuing towards Sheppard. It stopped just at the edge of my vision, toed the Colonel, then crouched as if to feed.

Sheppard's eyes snapped open. He swung my gun up, shot twice. The Wraith collapsed, and Sheppard stood, wavering, and shot it twice more. Then, for good measure, he shot it again.

I could track his movements as he knelt by McKay, checking for a pulse, which was there. He checked Teyla and Lorne, then grunted in a contented way. Kind of like what I did after a good dinner. Evidently this meshing thing went both ways.

He knelt in front of me, rubbing his arms.

"Tingles. But it worked. Five shots enough?" he asked. "Blink once for yes and twice for no."

I blinked twice.

"Ok," he said agreeably, and shot the dead Wraith three more times. "Better?"

OoO

"Careful!" McKay yelled. "There's seven life signs in that buffer, don't bash it too hard!"

The Atlantis scientists had excavated the dart and managed to remove the culling device from the crashed ship, discovering in the process that the beacon had, in fact, been too badly damaged in the crash to function. The culler, though, was intact - but the re-materializer had been unpowered. The whole unit had been shipped back to the city.

"That must have been one pissed Wraith. Seven four-course meals on the other side of a mere battery," Lorne said unsympathetically.

"Poor guy," Sheppard replied, sounding incredibly insincere.

We were standing in one of the larger labs, and the science contingent was swarming over the equipment, preparing to restore the seven in the buffer. Weir was to one side, arms folded, watching. Next to her, Beckett and part of his crew waited.

"OK! Powering up!"

There was a flash, and the first person appeared, wavered, collapsed. It was one of the adult Athosians. Teyla was at his side in a moment, and then Beckett was there, a gurney ready at hand.

"So there's a happy ending for some folks," I observed. I looked over at Sheppard, who was watching with a tight, strained expression.

"Yep." Sheppard straightened. "A happy ending. Till next time."

"Doesn't make it worth it?"

Sheppard's eyes were drawn to McKay, and the tension deepened. He shook his head. "Nope. Doesn't make it worth it. Nothing would make it worth it."

Another man, this time in uniform, appeared and collapsed. One of the Daedelus crew.

"Families will be pleased."

"Yep. They will be. I'm glad for them," Sheppard stated. "They were damned lucky, and it was because we were there recovering that we had the time to scout someplace we wouldn't have taken time to normally. But what those bastards did to us was unforgivable. I still want to go back and blow the place up, but Elizabeth's locked them out of the dialing computer."

A third person, a woman, in a Daedelus uniform.

"They don't make it worth it," Sheppard turned away. "But they give it some kind of meaning."

"Sometimes that's all you can ask," I replied.

"But sometimes there's more."

It was Caldwell, and he was watching from behind us. He looked – not happy, the man never did – but pleased. Satisfied.

Sheppard nodded politely – he and Caldwell had a truce, of sorts, as much as two strong leaders who butted heads could. There was mutual respect. What Sheppard didn't know was that Caldwell had actually joined us for some time while he and McKay were unconscious, spelling Teyla and I.

"Colonel."

Caldwell inclined his head by way of acknowledgement. "We've just come off a very satisfactory training exercise," he said. "And it looks like you've found some missing personnel."

We watched as the next two people appeared in rapid succession. One of them had an Atlantis uniform on, and another was Athosian.

"Well, Sir, you know the proverb about clouds and silver linings," Sheppard drawled.

Caldwell didn't respond. Instead, he stood beside me, watching the progress as the final two were materialized. McKay had been in the middle of the whole process, alternately yelling and encouraging, and now he leaned on the table for a moment. He glanced up again and saw us, pushed off the table and headed in our direction.

"Not bad, huh?" he said, satisfied.

"Not bad at all," Sheppard replied. "Right, Colonel?"

"Absolutely," Caldwell agreed. "Doctor McKay, I think you may have some work to do on one of the jumpers."

"They're all fine."

"We were loaned three for an exercise and one of them sustained some damage." Caldwell didn't sound sorry, far from it. He was having fun with this.

I eyed Sheppard as McKay began to protest, and the pilot held up a restraining hand.

"I think we need to hear the whole story," he said.

"Well, it is a good one." Smug. That was it. Caldwell was smug. "Our mission was to extract an unknown number of hostages from a fortified building and destroy it, then to render aid to those rescued and return them home. Which we accomplished, with no losses, and the incidental advantage of making peaceful contact with several races we hadn't run into before."

Sheppard got it right away. I was only a second behind him, but McKay was still puzzled. "It was an exercise? Then how'd it get damaged?"

Sheppard shook his head. "It was an 'exercise'," he said, wiggling his fingers in what Beckett had told me were called air quotes. "There were real bullets flying, though."

"Bullets? Sounds dangerous. Who authorized that? Did anyone get hit?"

Caldwell sighed. Sheppard smirked at me. McKay still wasn't getting it. I took pity on him – which is really unlike me. Earthers were rubbing off on me.

"McKay, they attacked the prison you and Sheppard were held in. They got the others out and blew the place up."

That stopped him. There was silence for a moment. "Oh," he said finally, glancing at Sheppard. "Um. Good."

I wasn't certain what Caldwell expected the reaction to be, but I was pretty certain it wasn't 'oh'.

"Problem?" I asked.

"You got the other prisoners out? What about the…the guards?" His attitude had turned intense, and Caldwell was cautious.

"We weren't that concerned about them, Doctor." I liked Caldwell. Easy guy to understand.

"Oh," he said again. There was another pause. "I'm sorry, Colonel. I mean – thank you. But I'm surprised that you did it. What will Elizabeth say?"

Caldwell sighed, and I could see he understood McKay's reaction. The Doctor was pleased to hear that justice had been served, but Earthers had a real reluctance when it came to imposing their own sense of justice on others – even where doing it would be a distinct improvement. Doctor Weir had been the champion of that particular concept recently. But somehow, I wasn't that surprised by Caldwell's reply.

"Doctor. Do you believe we would have been able to obtain permission from Doctor Weir to borrow those jumpers if she didn't know exactly what we would be doing with them?"

McKay blinked. It wasn't like him to be this slow, but then it hit me. He wanted to hear the words.

Caldwell realized it too. "McKay, not only did she know about the mission, she helped plan it."

And there wasn't much more to say.


End file.
